Jeremy Toombs writes

Beggars and Me

Beggars on the roadside.

Feeling full of grief;

drop a dime or walk on by

there’s no difference, no relief.

There’s how I think, how I feel

and what’s it mean to me.

At times I drop the dime,

other times I let it be.

There’s times I got no money

or paper too big to give;

so I’ve come around to saying prayers:

Lord, won’t you help this soul to live?

There’s times I pass judgement,

counting up arms and legs

saying, this body’s healthy

and got no reason to beg.

But who am I to say, to see inside?

Whatever do I know?

In the end it’s my relief

it could be me on beggar’s row.

 

 The Beggars --Pieter Bruegel the Elde